<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dirks Chemical Garden by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517686">Dirks Chemical Garden</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck, The Chemical Garden Trilogy - Lauren DeStefano</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirk is gay don't let him fool yah, I write slow I'm sorry, It's probably not good I don't write often, Jake is also gay but he has no clue, M/M, They're Both Clueless, yay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:54:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This fanfic will not be updated, as I am no longer a part of the Homestuck fandom and find no interest in ever continuing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jake English/Dirk Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dear Reader, I wish I could tell you this ends well for everyone, but don’t you dare come into this thinking it’s a happy story, because it absolutely isn’t. Everything that happens is a fucking disaster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Let me give you a little context for what happened to make the world so piss poor. The ‘First Generation’ rid the world of disease and defects. All of it. For them. They lived long prosperous lives, but their children are another story. They were infected by a virus that kills all females at the age of 20, and all males at the age of 25. Their children died the same way. Gatherers come for women, kidnapping them and taking them to wive the children of the rich of the first, but last night they came for me. Now let me just tell you that I’m no woman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My name is Dirk Strider. I’m the fourth generation. I'm stuck in here with all the woman taken by the Gatherers. They’re scared and confused, and I won’t lie so am I. I don’t know why I’m here, but they’re filing us out of the truck. The outside is cold. I can see my breath and the clouds look like they may shower us with snow at any moment, but I’m not outside for long. I’m taken into a building with the others. It’s warm inside but I’m scared shitless. I know what happens to people here, and no option here is a good one. If I try to run I die. If I’m not picked I die. If I am picked, sure, I don’t die so soon but I have to live with a husband, a man I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with. I’m not even gay. Why the fuck am I here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’re all lined up, staring down the backs of each others necks. I stand quietly with the others as Gatherers jab them if they so much as twitch a muscle. I can feel the doors open and cold air rush in and when they do I hear voices to muffled for me to make out anything. I can’t even tell the genders. I try to listen carefully but can’t make out a god damned thing. Then I hear footsteps coming down the hall slowly but the person in front of me blocks my view. After what feels like hours of waiting I hear the footsteps stop next to me. I’m told to turn and face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man standing in front of me stares at me with his brow furrowing, leaning over me a bit as if trying to figure out why I’m here. He’s dressed in fine clothing, a dazzling golden cape made of tassels, a tight fitting suit, and golden earrings. Whatever isn’t black is gold. His dark skin looks soft and well taken care of, unlike a lot of the people I’ve met. He stares at me with emerald green eyes behind glasses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t expect much less from someone who would kidnap women to wed. I stand still so I don’t get jabbed, but the Gatherers seem to have lightened up since he got here. Maybe there’s a chance I can run…</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>“Look at me please?” </span>
  <span>His hand is gentle as it lifts my chin. I decide to suck it up and allow him to thinking that I may as well just do it. Who knows, this man may be kind if I just stay quiet and let me live after all of this. </span>
  <span>“I don’t know why I’m saying this but you. I choose you."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Me?” I speak without meaning to and glance at the gatherers, who are moving towards us. I feel myself stiffen a bit when they’re right by me. The man nods and the gatherers grab me but I don’t move, frozen in fear. What could I do anyway against them? There’s many of them and only one of me. I’m taken to a truck.. All by myself. No one else is picked, and I sit there for a good long while.</p><p>I look out the window to see the others being loaded back into the van I was in earlier. I pale a bit, knowing that this is the last time they’ll ever see the light of day. The man from earlier comes into the car I’m in. I feel frozen. I don’t know if I can move, or if I even should. </p><p>“I’m sorry that took me so long. My mother wanted me to pick someone else as well but I couldn’t find anyone among that group that caught my eye. There’s always the next group, right?” He laughs and it’s as beautiful as he is, but I can’t enjoy it. Not when I know what’s about to happen… I hear the vans doors slam shut beside us, and the man I’m with looks out. “Back to their families they go!” </p><p>I lose the air in my lungs suddenly and feel myself pale more. Then I hear it, just as the car starts up. A gunshot. And then another. The man seems to have no care in the world. He doesn’t care that all those women are being slaughtered because he didn’t choose them. And then it hits me. </p><p>He doesn’t know. He has no idea what happens… This man is absolutely clueless about how many people he’s killed. How many sessions of picking no one has he gone through? Two? Three? More..? How many women were in each? To many to count I’m sure. All with names, all with lives, and I’m sure most with families. I’m sure somewhere even married before they were kidnapped or tricked. I know some had their families paid to come, but maybe.. Two or three? Total? They sacrificed themselves so their families could survive. </p><p>The man looks at me and smiles. “My name is Jake. Jake English. What’s yours?” I look at him a moment before opening my mouth to answer. The words are hard to force out and my mouth feels dry. “Dirk Strider.” He nods and smiles. </p><p>“Wonderful to meet you then Dirk! It’s always nice to know the name of a new friend. Or.. Well I suppose mother will want me to marry you.. So husband.” He hums before continuing. “I never would have imagined a man among my sutors!”</p><p>I nod slowly and sit back a bit, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. I see their faces. In the silence that comes for a moment I can hear the gunshots, even though by now we must be far from the building. I feel dirty. I should have died, and one of them should have lived. I feel responsible even though there was nothing I could have done to save them, so I sit and wait as quietly as I can to get to wherever it is this man... Jake, is taking me.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>